Harry Lovegood: Saves the Sorcerer's Stone
by HuffleClaw-RavenPuff
Summary: What if, while Hagrid was flying with little Harry on that fateful night, he dropped him? What if Harry Potter was spotted by one Estelle Lovegood while she was out stargazing, and saved just in time? How will Harry's life change, with two loving parents and a sister from a very 'different' family? How will his first year be now? Ravenclaw!Powerful!Happy!Harry, Dumbledore bashing
1. Chapter 1: A Shooting Star

Full Summary:

What if, while Hagrid was flying with little Harry on that fateful night, he dropped him? What if Harry Potter was spotted by one Estelle Lovegood while she was out stargazing, and saved just in time? How will Harry's life change, with two loving parents and a sister from a very…_different_ family? How will his first year be now?

In this story, I have placed Godric's Hollow in Cornwall, since in cannon we don't know where it is, only that is somewhere in the west. Cornwall is really southwest, but oh well; it's necessary for the plot. Also, since in cannon we do not know Luna's birthdate, I have declared it to be August 31, 1980, which would usually be too late to start Hogwarts in the same year as Harry and the others (thus why, in my headcannon, she was a year later) but she wanted to start in the same year as her "twin", so Dumbledore made an exception. If you don't like this, I'm sorry. Review if you like. Picture links on my profile.

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Harry Lovegood:

Saves The Sorcerer's Stone

Forward by Almond Olea Vigour

I was asked to write this some time ago, but with no idea how to start, the details started to get dusty and old, and I put it off more and more. I thought to myself, there is plenty of time to do this. It was a cold winter morning, the day before my brother was to stop by, when I shot out of bed and realised all at once that _someone_ had to tell this story as soon as possible, and I was the perfect one – the only one, I suppose – to do it. So, I got out a Pensieve, a quill, several bottles of ink, and plenty of parchments.

First I hammered out the details: tiny things like what we ate, what we wore, what our rooms were like, and what we all looked like at varying ages, because after all, the story is in the details. That's what brings it to life, not the Dark wizards and wands and castles and Thestrals and battles and magical objects. Imagine that this story is a tulip, and the details are water and soil and pruning and lighting and care during winter – the stuff that you easily overlook if you're not a skilled plant-caretaker. The big thing, the main story, is like the sun, but without the water, soil, and protection, the plants would almost certainly not make it. And vice versa: all the water, fertilizer, and sheets during wintertime won't grow a tulip without light.

Therefore, in this tulip of a story, I will have to, I think, split it into seven parts. This is the accounting of the first part, involving a shooting star, a letter, a stone, a Dark Lord, and the wonderful matter of friendships.

As for who I am, well, I am not sure that is relevant. He would say it is – and they would as well, perhaps – but at this moment, I don't believe it is. Perhaps you can guess my identity, though I am trying not to use any key phrases, but otherwise, I will tell you at the end of this series.

The books will be called as follows: (Unless they must change for some reason)

_Harry Lovegood: Saves the Sorcerer's Stone_

_Harry Lovegood: Discovers a Secret Chamber_

_Harry Lovegood: Helps to Free an Innocent Man_

_Harry Lovegood: Becomes a Scorched Name_

_Harry Lovegood: Learns of a Secret Society_

_Harry Lovegood: Reads a Strange Potions Book_

_Harry Lovegood: Has a Very Different Year_

Now, I suppose we should begin our story…

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Chapter One: A Shooting Star

**October 31, 1981: 12:02am – 12:03am**

The quiet night was interrupted by a loud rumble, and over the quiet, sleeping county of Devon shot a huge, _flying_, motorbike.

"Oh, I just can' believe it!" wailed the man who rested atop it. If the bike was huge, it was nothing compared to the man who rode it. If he were standing, he would easily reach twelve feet tall and half that wide. The man had a kind face hidden beneath a scraggly black beard and hair, and periodically wiped his eyes and blew his nose with a sound like a foghorn.

"Lily an' James Potter, dead!" he cried, wiping his eyes. He turned to the bundle in his arms. "An' you, yeh poor thing, off ter live with some Muggles!" A tiny face peeked out, staring with wide green eyes. A tuft of black hair adorned his little head, and a still-bleeding scar on his forehead was shaped curiously like a lightning bolt.

"Aw, little Harry, I wish I could jus' take yeh with me and you'd never haff ter see those dratted Muggles…" the man sobbed loudly. "Ah, blast these goggles," he said, pulling them off his head and wiping them on a large handkerchief.

"Uh oh!" a blast of strong wind caught the bike, and Hagrid was forced to swerve wildly to avoid a flock of geese also blown off-course. Finally, he managed to right the bike with a murmured curse and continued on his trajectory.

Unbeknownst to the half-giant, the bundle in his arms was now rather without a child. Far below, right over a small, half-Muggle, half-Wizard village, little Harry soared through the air, giggling happily, with no idea that he was falling towards certain death.

The man, who was called Hagrid, zoomed on through Devon, then Somerset, then Dorset, then Wiltshire, then Hampshire, and finally to his destination in Surrey.

He had no idea that the little boy he had been carrying was falling through the air at that very moment, surely to die upon impact.

**October 31, 1981: 12:03am – 3:00am**

In the pale October moonlight, a beautiful woman lay on a hill. She had lovely silvery blue eyes to compliment her very long jet-black hair, and was dressed in a silver cloak. Hanging from her ears were what looked like tiny radishes, and around her neck was a charm that shone like starlight.

She was plotting constellations at this time of year in order to chart the reactions of the Dirigible Plums to different levels of starlight. Besides the moon, the only light around came from a house on another, smaller, hill next to hers. As the woman plotted Cassias, she noticed something strange in the sky over the small forest in front of her. It looked like a large bird – a _blue_ bird. Something about this rung strange to the woman, so she picked up a pair of Omnioculars from the ground beside her and focused on the shape, only to scream at what she saw.

It wasn't a bird at all, but a little boy of around fourteen months. He was falling rapidly to the earth, twisting and turning every which way as the wind blew him.

The woman's wand was in her hand in an instant, quickly casting a featherlight charm in the boy's direction even as she ran into the forest.

"Oh dear," she said to herself, lighting her wand and looking around wildly. Usually, she was cool under pressure, but this was a _child_, and he could very well be dead before she found him. What if the charm hadn't reached him in time?

No, wait…what was that? In the distance, something odd was hanging from a tree. The woman approached carefully, turned her light upon it, and saw that it was the little boy. He was hanging by his nightclothes almost twenty feet in the air, looking rather frightened.

As soon as he spotted her, the boy cried, "Help! Fall! Stuck!" and wriggled slightly as if to prove his words.

"It's alright dear," the woman said, coming closer. "I'll get you right down…"

She quickly cast Wingardium Leviosa, and guided her wand so the boy rose up slightly off of the branch he was stuck on, then slowly lowered him to her arms.

He laughed and clapped happily, and she beamed, noting how cold the boy felt and starting back towards her home to warm him up.

"Now, what were you doing, falling from the sky?" she said. "Where are your parents, hmm?"

The boy furrowed his brow, and she noticed that he had a little scar on his forehead, perhaps from the trees.

"Bad man." He finally said. "Green light. Mummy fall down. Hairy guy on big bike."

She nodded, understanding a bit. She had her own child just a bit younger, and that made it easier to understand the small boy. He was obviously making an effort to talk clearly.

"Did the bad man have a wand?" she asked cautiously. Green light – that sounded like the Killing Curse. He could be a wizard's child…

"Yes!" Harry said triumphantly. "Had wand. Used green light on Harry's mummy."

Ah, so he _was_ a little wizard then. No doubt the 'bad man' was a Death Eater. But wait…

"Harry?" she repeated. "Is your name Harry Potter, dear?"

"Yep!" he said cheerfully, playing with a lock of her hair. They were almost to the house now.

"Oh my…" the woman said. She had received a birth announcement from James and Lily Potter the previous July, saying they now had a little boy, and come to think of it, Harry did look very much like his parents – he had James's hair, chin, and ears, but Lily's pale skin, small nose, and green eyes. No one had seen the Potter child because James and Lily had been in hiding since last May. The Dark Lord had targeted them, and now, she supposed, he had…_taken care _of them.

She found herself tearing up slightly, but pushed back the tears for now. She would morn James and Lily later; for now, she needed to take care of their son.

Finally she was at her house, and before she could begin to open it, it burst open of its own accord and her husband came flying towards her, his hair more dishevelled than usual and his robes askew.

"There you are, my dear! You will not believe the news: the Dark Lord is gone! I've just gotten about twenty different letters, not to mention a special Prophet addition, saying that he attacked the Potters house – Lily and James Potter, oh, of course it's horrible and we really shouldn't be celebrating, but their son, little Harvey, defeated the Dark Lord! No one knows how, but he went to kill the boy and the curse backfired! They're rounding up Death Eaters as we speak! And Filius said – what do you have there?"

She couldn't hold back her smile at her husband's scatterbrained way of speaking. Imagine not noticing the woman in front of you was holding a baby!

"Speaking of _Harry_ Potter," she said, stepping inside and closing the door. She grabbed a blanket from the sofa and wrapped the poor boy up; he was starting to shiver. "Guess what fell from the sky?"

The man gaped at her, then at Harry. "Y-You don't mean –"

"Yes, sure as Nargles love mistletoe. I swear on Rowena's Diadem, I saw something strange in the distance, over the forest, so I used the Omnioculars to take a closer look, and there was a baby, falling from the sky."

The man gasped, stumbling backwards onto a chair.

"I used a featherlight charm, then went into the forest to find him, and lo and behold there was a little boy hanging from a tree. He told me that a Bad Man came with a wand and used a green light to kill his mum and dad."

"Goodness me," he said, a hand over his heart. "The poor little thing… What should we do?"

"Well, I suppose we should –"

But her next words were cut short by a silver form that shot through the window. They both recognised it as a Patronus – a phoenix, to be exact. It immediately began speaking in a familiar but hurried voice.

"Witches and wizards of the Wizarding World," Albus Dumbledore said, "you are all aware of the horrible, and yet triumphant, events of this day. However, the person of the hour, so to speak, young Harry Potter, has gone missing. He was being flown from his family's home in Godric's Hollow, Cornwall, to the home of relatives in Little Whinging, Surrey. Somewhere between, he was blown from his caretaker's arms. We need every wand at the ready to find the boy – he could very well still be alive. Search everywhere you can, and don't pass over it just because you believe he couldn't have survived there; the magic of a scared little boy should not be underestimated. If anyone should find him, immediately contact myself, the Ministry, or anyone in authority that you can; take him to Diagon Alley or the Ministry of Magic if you are able. Someone will be there to assist you. Do not worry, my fellow witches and wizards – little Harry _will_ be found."

The Patronus disappeared, and the couple stared at each other. Harry stared at them.

"It seems we have no choice," the man said. "We should Floo to the ministry –"

But the woman's eyes had rolled back in her head, causing her husband to break off and race to her side. He knew this was the telltale signs of a premonition; she had Seer in her blood; not enough to make a prophecy, but enough to see glimpses of the present and future occasionally.

And what she saw that day decided the fate of the entire Wizarding World

_The cupboard was tiny, and yet the small boy lived there among the spiders and dust, with no-one to change his nappy in the middle of the night, no-one to hug him, and not a single toy. _

_He cooked for the faceless family, cleaned for them, and did it all very well for such as small child. His hands and feet were callused and bloody in a way no child's body should be. When he dropped a cup because his thirst made him too dizzy to keep his balance, he was beaten with a belt until he had welts. When he burned breakfast, his little hands were forced onto the hot pan. When his eyesight was discovered to be bad, he was given glasses that made him nauseous and caused the world to be a blur. He was slapped often, beaten with the belt frequently – often for no reason at all – and occasionally fed rotten food, burned, or denied water until near-death. If he spoke of strange things, he was beaten. If he did something wrong, even on accident, he was beaten. If he broke something, he was beaten._

_And yet, inside the boy stayed good. He didn't love his relatives and he certainly didn't like them, but the most harm he wished upon them was sickness or a sprained leg. He was a loving child through it all, but a broken child as well._

Even before she saw the scar on his face, right near the very end, she knew who this boy was.

She gasped as the vision ended, finding tears streaming down her face, her husband leaning over with concern, and little Harry held close to her chest. He was whimpering, but she wasn't holding his very tight; she had the strange feeling that the boy was just worried about her.

"I'm okay." She told them both shakily. "I just…I think I just saw Harry's life with his relatives – the one the Patronus said he was to be taken to."

Her husband nodded eagerly. "And?" he prompted. "Do they adore him, or do they not know what he's done? Is he spoiled or well-cared for?"

She shook her head, hardly believing it herself. "No. None of the above. They were Muggles, I think – I never saw their faces. But they…"

She began to sob again, and the man's eyes grew wide.

"What is it? Were they killed as well? Was Harry found and attacked?"

She took a shaky breath and slowly told him what she had seen, sparing no details. His face showed horror and disgust, rather than his usually slightly-mad jolliness. By the end, they were both crying, and Harry reached out to pat their hands comfortingly.

"So that…that is his future, if we give him back." He finally said. "That horrible life with those awful Muggles, being beaten and starved and living in a cupboard…"

She simply nodded.

"And there's no way to convince Dumbledore of this," she continued. "He thinks we're mad, and doesn't trust visions. Or, if he does, he'll just warn the Muggles and send Harry there regardless. Our hands are tied."

It was silent in the house for nearly two minutes. Suddenly, it was like a fire was lit in her husband's grey eyes. "Then we shan't give him back."

She gasped. "Are – are you mad?"

"No, listen, dear," he said, his eyes sparkling as he talked quickly, "We can blood-adopt him, change his name a bit, and tell the world that he is our daughter's brother, but was sickly at a young age, and we didn't want to bring him out in the open until he was stronger."

Now, very often his schemes and ideas were just short of insane, but this…this made sense.

"But – but we can't just tell everyone that!" she cried. "We can't let them believe the boy is dead! What will happen when he starts at Hogwarts, hmm? They'll know what we've done, and we'll be arrested!"

"That's the genius of it," the man implored. "We simply tell them that we never got the Patronus and thought he should be raised normally, so that's why we changed his name and made him to be someone else! And as long as the boy is healthy and happy, there's no way they will arrest the saviours of the Boy-Who-Lived."

Actually, she thought, that was rather genius.

There was only once choice.

The man woke his daughter, and the woman went about finding the right dagger, the right basin, and the right spell book.

"Yes, love," he said, bringing the little girl back into the living room where her mother was setting up all they needed and flipping to the correct page. The little girl had long hair for a child so young, and was about three months younger than Harry, if that. "We found a brother for you!"

"Brudder!" she squealed, clapping her hands.

"But first, dear, we have to do a little spell," the woman said, kneeling down on the floor. The man held his daughter, and the woman held Harry. "We have to do a little bit of blood, each of us, and then we'll say a spell and little Harry will be your real brother!"

"Yay!" the girl said, and held out her hand. It wasn't actually a tiny bit of blood; the spell called for about a tablespoon from each person, but the little girl only whined and winced a bit as her mother deftly cut her hand on the back under her thumb. She held her hand over the bowl until her mother said it was enough, then her father wrapped it with a bandage.

Harry looked scared.

"You be my mummy?" he asked the woman nervously. She nodded, smiling kindly. "And dadda?" the man nodded as well. "And a…a stister?" he looked at the little girl, and she beamed back.

"Okay den…" he said, and offered his hand, crying slightly as it was cut as well in the same place. While the man did the same to his own hand, the woman cooed to Harry, telling him how brave he was as she wrapped his hand delicately, using a tiny spark of magic to make it close up and ease the pain. She did the same to her daughter, then took the knife and cut herself as well.

"Alright, everyone hold hands," she commanded, and they did so. "Don't move until the spell is over, and try to be very quiet."

She began to chant.

_"Sed in omni gente sanguine_

_Mutatio in nobis adduxi_

_Et unum nos facere"_

And that is the story of how Estelle and Xenophilius Lovegood saved Harry Potter and began to raise him as their own.

**October 31, 1981: 12:57am – 1:15am**

"But he's better off growing up away from all that…until he's ready."

The conversation taking place on a darkened Muggle street was cut short by the loud rumble of an engine, and a huge motorbike landed in the middle of the street. A giant of a man stepped off, saying politely, "Professor Dumbledore, sir. Professor McGonagall."

His huge hands were gentle as they cradled a small white bundle.

"Ah, Hagrid," said Dumbledore. "Everything went well, I expect?"

"Yes sir," Hagrid answered crisply. "Little tyke fell asleep awhile ago. Not heard a peep since."

"Alright, well I suppose we should get on with it," Dumbledore said somewhat reluctantly. He reached out for the baby, and Hagrid handed him the bundle.

"Hmm…" Dumbledore said contemplatively. "He must be a tiny thing. Very light…"

Dumbledore pushed the blankets aside to look at Harry properly before he would disappear for ten years, and gasped.

"Oh my – oh goodness, no!" the man said in a rare panic. He pushed and pulled at the blankets. He must be just missing him – he must. Harry was in here somewhere…

"What is it, Albus?" Minerva McGonagall asked urgently. "Is the boy hurt?"

"He looked alrigh' ter me, save for tha' lil scar –"

Dumbledore dropped the blankets to the ground, and Minerva shrieked when she saw that they were utterly without a little boy.

"Oh no," Hagrid said in a hoarse whisper. "No, Harry – where'd he go?"

Albus ignored both of them, conjuring his Patronus and speaking to it in a hopefully-calm voice before sending it off quickly.

"Hagrid, Minerva, send word to the Ministry." Dumbledore said in a commanding voice. "And every witch, wizard, and squib you can find. Have someone alert the Muggles as well. Tell them that Harry Potter is missing."


	2. Chapter 2: Family

**Oh my goodness, you guys really like this story! I have never gotten so many alerts! Thank you so much, every one of you made my day. If this chapter seems a bit rushed, I'm sorry. I was just trying to get basic information out there so I could get to the good part. I'll start working on the next chapter now. I how you all like this one as much as the first!**

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Chapter Two: Family

**November 1981 – May 1990: Various**

That night, Luna and Harry – who was now named Harlow Arctrurus Lovegood – shared Luna's crib. Luna, smaller than your newly announced big brother, pressed herself far into the pillow, blonde hair curling across Harry's form like a blanket. They slept peacefully together, backs touching lightly. Their small movements in the night seemed to mirror the other; when Harry turned, so did Luna; when Luna moved her arm, Harry moved to make room for her motion. If Harry fussed, Luna made a soothing noise in her throat, and if Luna squirmed, Harry grabbed her long hair and tugged just lightly enough to announce his presence: _I'm here, don't worry. _

The very next day, the changes started to appear. Harry's hair grew rapidly; all Lovegoods had long hair, after all, and soon his was just inches from Luna's, feminine but not girly at all if you took in his boyish face as well. Estelle changed her eye colour from silver-blue to Harry's green; they couldn't bring themselves to take away those lovely eyes, and it seemed that the ritual couldn't either. Other than that, some features changed a bit; the family would be wandering around in the home, minding their own business, and suddenly their bones or skin would ripple. Eventually, the Lovegoods shared similar features, like eye shapes, nose size, and skin colour. Nothing, luckily, changed so much that Estelle, Xenophilius, and Luna were more different than growth, age, or a simple spell could explain.

In the days following, Harry would occasionally get teary-eyed and cried over the loss of his parents. On one memorable morning, Estelle and Xenophilius went into the children's room to wake them, and found a crying Harry sitting in Luna's lap whilst she sang tunelessly to him in mostly-gibberish and braided his hair. Estelle and Xenophilius had shared a look before climbing into the round crib as well, sitting on the edges and singing with Luna, taking Harry's lead and letting him grab on to them as he wished rather than forcing contact upon him. Soon, Harry had grabbed both of their hands and held on tight.

They became a proper family quickly. Estelle took Harry into the woods to see unicorns and owls and other magical creatures. She taught him how to take photographs and turn them into magical ones, told him about the stars and helped him prune the Dirigible Plums. Xenophilius read him The Tales of Beedle the Bard, let Harry help make potions, and even constructed a seat that ran on rails all over the first floor, which Harry could sit in and be pushed, like he was flying. He showed him how to garden and how to take care of the animals. Luna taught Harry how to sing and paint and swim and how to carefully approach unicorns in the forest to pet them. Often, the four Lovegoods could be found in the Muggle portion of Ottery St. Catchpole shopping for foodstuffs. Everyone who saw them cooed at the two long-haired babies riding on their parent's shoulders, swinging off their hands, or skipping along behind them, hand in hand.

Within months, the two children were as close as any twins. Harry loved his new mum and dad, but never forgot about his old ones. Every year on October 31, the Lovegood family held a candlelight memorial for Lily and James Potter. Harry had rather good memories of his parents, considering how young he had been when he last saw them. He remembered their faces and flashes of ordinary moments, like dinnertime and playing games, flying on a small broom and being rocked to sleep. But clearest of all, he remembered a flash of green light, which always caused him to jerk awake, screaming.

Harry learned at age five why he had to wear his bangs and Glamour charms over the scar on his forehead when they left the house. He had always known that he had received it when the dark wizard, Voldemort, had killed his parents and tried to kill him. He didn't learn until his fourth birthday that he was famous, however. The family had rarely been out in the Wizarding World until that point, lest Harry learn of his fame before he was ready. They would go to Quidditch games and wizard chess tournaments, but stayed away from places where there was much talking, like Diagon Alley, lest it be related to the Boy Who Disappeared.

Estelle and Xenophilius explained to Harry how they had found him, and glossed carefully over Estelle's vision of his life with the Muggles, just telling the boy that they had been rather rude to him and they didn't want him to grow up that way. Both Luna and Harry understood the seriousness of not telling anyone his true identity.

Their story was well thought out and made sense; 'Harlow', called Harry after Estelle's grandfather, had been born a month premature, and had been sickly for nearly two years. Harry took after his mother, and Luna after her father. There was no debate among the few that even cared to listen to the family whether the story was true or not (it was one of the most ordinary things to come out of the Lovegood household in years), and the family had a normal, happy life until their Hogwarts years – normal, at least, except for the typical wizard events, like accidental magic.

Harry and Luna were nine when Estelle was experimenting in the work room. The twins had been grooming the Dirigible Plums when they felt the shock of strong magic; that was their only warning. Instinctively, they both grabbed each other's hands and wished for protection –

And half of the house exploded.

After some investigation, it was found that Estelle had been experimenting with Erumpent horns and one had exploded. Somehow, however, she had been protected. When Xenophilius, Harry, and Luna burst into the room, Estelle was floating near the ceiling in a clear bubble, staring in shock at the ruined room. She swore that she hadn't thought to use the shield, but where else could it have come from?

Harry and Luna were in shock, and everyone had to take some breaths and drink some strong tea before they could calm down and count their blessings together. Wherever the shield had come from, it meant that Estelle was alive, and that was all that mattered.

The years passed, and Harry and Luna stuck to their own family for the most part. They decided that they would use their time at Hogwarts to make friends, and just enjoy the years with their mother, father, and each other for now.

The Lovegood family was very close. All of them may have been eccentric and strange, but they were bright and witty and loved to discover new things. In Estelle's and Xenophilius's relationship, Estelle was the calm and mature one, always there to remind her husband of the laws of physics or the law or to simply say 'no', such as when he had tried to make a furry orange suit to wear for her cousin's birthday party.

The twin's relationship was different. The times Luna was the voice of reason echoed the times when Harry was the practical one; they were very balanced and usually good under pressure, such as one Christmas Eve when their father had though it a good idea to animate their Christmas tree to twirls a little, and it ended up chasing the all up and down the stairs, leaving shredding furniture and broken ornaments in its wake. It had been the twins, when their parents were clinging to Harry's ceiling swing to avoid the branches, who thought to lead the tree into the lake. (Presumably, it still laid there at the bottom, but none of them had ever checked.)

Harry was eight when he moved into his own room. Until that point, he and Luna had shared, but they found that they did need their own space one in a while, though they still doubled up often.

Harry's room was circular, like all the other rooms in the Lovegood Tower. It had wood floors with a large, worn, thin striped rug covering the middle of the room. The walls, if you cut the room into four crescent shapes, were half blotted smoky blue over white, and half mural; one side was a forest scene with trees and squirrels, unicorns and dragons, the other an ocean scene with islands, cliffs, and waves. Both of them were charmed to change with seasons and the weather – Estelle's work, though Harry and Luna had painted them together beforehand – and naturally the trees moved in the wind, the waves rolled to and fro, and the animals walked and flew about. The six small windows were white and framed with red and yellow curtains. Most of the furniture in the room was red or yellow or both with little decorations painted on the sides, like swirls or stars or runes. Harry's bed was made out of an old brown boat, which hung from the ceiling just high enough to sway slightly as he moved. There were a half-dozen different shelving units in his room, holding things like toys, precious possessions, and, most of all, books. Other than these, there was a blue desk decorated with bronze stars and a wardrobe and dresser set of the same design. Few items in the room matched, of course, but the rest of the house followed this pattern.

Luna's room was right above Harry's; there were seven floors total – the living room and kitchen, the bathroom floor, their parent's room and the den, Harry's room, Luna's room, the playroom, and the work room.

Along one side of Luna's room was a large purple willow tree, whose branches swayed in imaginary wind and leaves fell off in the fall and winter. A little makeshift couch made from cushions sat below the tree, and a table next to it held little treasures and writing utensils. Her bed was wire-framed, with blankets of varying shades of blue and always-missing pillows of random design and colours adorning it. Many things hung from Luna's ceiling; wind chimes, paper lanterns, sheer sheets, shells, dream catchers, plants, globes, and dried plants. Her walls were turquoise blue – save around the tree, where they were white – with paintings and photographs decorating a vast majority of them. In addition there were mirrors and clocks – which never seemed to agree on the time – and little notes taped around haphazardly. She had several stacked shelves and bookcases, like her brother, and many toys dotted around as well. A desk sat in between the door and the purple tree, dark wood covered with supplies and stained with ink and potions supplies. Her floor was the same wood as her brother's, her woods the same small white, but framed by plum curtains. A large burn marred the wall two feet to the left of her door, right beside the wardrobe and dresser, from an incident when Harry had broken her favourite doll [Accidental magic was frequent in the Lovegood house, such as when Harry had fallen out of his fourth-story window but floated to the ground like a feather, or when Luna froze a passageway in the lake in order to reach a drowning unicorn], but otherwise the house was still in good repair, even though it was over two hundred years old. It did lean slightly towards the forest, however.

Both Harry and Luna loved learning. They loved to read and explore and learn new things. Their motto was that they would believe anything they wished until it was proven not to be true, which made other magical children (on the rare times they saw them after Harry turned five) call them names, like Scary and Loony Lovegood, especially when they mentioned Nargles or Crumple-Horned Snorkacks or Gulping Plimpies or the like (for some reason, the other wizarding children didn't think these creatures were real). The twins didn't really mind, however. They knew that one day they would make true friends who would appreciate them, but until then they at least had each other.

But Harry and Luna Lovegood didn't know how much they would need that bond between them, and they wouldn't for years to come.


End file.
